


Hail to the Queen

by Maiden_of_Asgard



Category: Loki - Fandom, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Comics), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Jotunn Loki (Marvel), Jötunheimr | Jotunheim, King Loki (Marvel), POV Loki (Marvel), Post-Thor: The Dark World
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-06
Updated: 2019-04-06
Packaged: 2020-01-05 13:42:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18367172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maiden_of_Asgard/pseuds/Maiden_of_Asgard
Summary: He never should’ve had that joint throne constructed for them, but there’s no turning back now.*A Frostbite Series AU*





	Hail to the Queen

**Author's Note:**

> You could consider this a sequel to "Paper Planes," or a completely unrelated one-shot from the possible-future world of Frostbite. I was going to wait to post it until after Frostbite's done, buuuuut I couldn't resist <3 Please enjoy!
> 
> Love,  
> MoA

The feasting was in full swing, and King Loki Inn-Illi couldn’t even  _ begin  _ to focus on whatever it was that the lord several seats down the table was attempting to tell him. There was very little that he could do about the source of his distraction, as well, without making things very awkward for everyone at the dinner table. 

His little mortal queen was gently stroking his inner thigh beneath the table, just above his knee.  _ By Valhalla, _ he silently swore, staring steadfastly at a large stone pitcher sitting further down the table,  _ this throne was a mistake.  _

At the time, the joint throne had seemed a marvelous idea; he liked keeping her close to his side, and she’d begun to complain about being nothing more than a ‘lap dog.’ Loki had decided to humor her by having a cushioned throne constructed that could comfortably accommodate the two of them side-by-side, and in the beginning, he’d been  _ exceptionally  _ pleased with his idea. 

Or, to be more precise, he’d been exceptionally pleased with his queen’s  _ response _ to the gesture -  she’d all but dragged him back to their chambers and  _ ordered _ him out of his clothing, and then she’d proceeded to keep him up half of the night. 

Now, he could only lament as her wandering touch breezed further up his thigh, prompting stirrings of desire that were absolutely  _ impossible _ to ignore. 

And yet, he could not bring himself to tell her to stop. 

“You  _ are _ planning to let me go to Earth with the twins,” she whispered in his ear, “right?”

Loki gave a curt nod. 

_ “Good boy.” _ It was little more than a breath, so soft that he sincerely hoped that no one else in the hall had managed to overhear it. Her fingers dug into the leather of his trousers, and his blood began to burn. “I’ll be waiting.”

Abruptly, she stood, bowing her head respectfully. “May I take my leave, sire?” she asked in a louder voice, perfectly prim and proper. Perfectly  _ regal.  _

Had he been less painfully aroused, Loki might’ve rolled his eyes at the display. He waved dismissively. “Of course.”

She strolled away, one of her guards leaping up to accompany her, and Loki  _ attempted,  _ once again, to pay attention to the lord’s conversation. He was not successful. 

Anxious apprehension plagued him as he made his way back to his chambers that night, a sort of frustrated longing that he was honestly  _ ashamed  _ to possess. How was it that a woman - a  _ mortal  _ woman - had managed to make him so vulnerable? So…  _ trusting? _

The fire was blazing when he entered their sitting room, and he could only surmise that she’d returned from dinner before him expressly to heat the air. Heart pounding, he rechecked the charms on the door; he had no intention of being disturbed. 

Her head was visible above the back of the chair where she sat, her delicate silver crown perched on her head, though she did not turn to greet him. From what he could see, her shoulders were bare, and he dearly hoped that meant that the rest of her was similarly exposed. 

When he rounded the couch to stand before her, he found that she  _ was  _ clothed - but barely, only a scandalously thin sheath of fabric hugging her body, a tiny strap around her neck holding the entire ensemble in place. The look she gave him was imperious, an excellent replication of his own expression when he sat upon his throne. 

His tongue darted out to wet his lips. “My queen,” he said. “You summoned me?”

“I did.” 

_ How haughty she looks,  _ he thought. He never would’ve imagined that he’d be enticed by such a thing - had never  _ been _ enticed by such a thing - before her. “And how may I serve you?”

Her legs parted, a very purposeful, calculated move; his little queen learned  _ very _ quickly. “Strip,” she ordered. “Boots first, then your shirt.”

Stooping, Loki quickly unlaced his boots, then kicked them away, his tunic soon joining them. He reached for his belt, but she suddenly tsked, holding up her hand. “I didn’t say you could take your pants off,” she said with a smirk on her lips, beckoning him forward. 

“My apologies, my queen,” he replied, stepping closer. 

She pointed at the floor by her feet. “Kneel.”

He sank to his knees. 

It was fascinating, really, how close they’d become in the years since they’d met, how  _ open.  _ She’d been so timid and unsure, in the beginning, and now… now, she was something truly fearsome to behold. Slowly, she pulled up the hem of her gown, bunching it around her knees. Her silver anklets caught the glimmer of the firelight; he was eager to have her in nothing  _ but _ those anklets.

Though… perhaps the crown could stay.

“Come hither, underling.”

Loki’s brow lifted, and he did his best not to laugh. “You are  _ very _ in-character, aren’t you, my darling?”

She huffed. “Maybe. Now, come here, before I have you sent to the dungeons.” Ever-obliging, Loki scooted forward until he was between her legs, daring to slide his hands up her calves. His little queen, however, quickly smacked his hands away. “No touching, unless you ask first.”

Sighing, he clenched his fists at his sides.  _ “May _ I touch you, beautiful lady?”

His relief was immediate when she gave a haughty nod, and his hands returned to her skin, greedy to soak in her warmth. She released a happy little breath, leaning her head back against the cushion, her crown slipping slightly out of place. “Touch me,” she said. “That’s an order.”

She hooked one of her legs over his shoulder, and Loki grunted in surprise. Norns, she was  _ perfect.  _ How did she know him so well? How did she understand what he _ needed? _

He caught hold of her ankle, lifting her leg a bit to kiss the inside of her thigh, basking in her delighted giggles. She hadn’t yet managed to maintain the perfectly-disinterested, regal facade, but he admired the effort. When he bit down gently on her tender skin, her giggle turned into a gasp, and her back arched. 

Encouraged - and under  _ direct orders  _ to touch her - Loki pulled her hips to the edge of the chair, attempting to work out the best angle; the difference in height  _ did  _ occasionally make things a bit tricky, and the palace furniture clearly wasn’t designed with such activities in mind

He made a mental note to have their chambers redecorated. 

The fabric of her dress bunched around her waist, and he slowly kissed and nipped his way up thigh, delighted when she seized a fistful of his hair.  _ “Tease,” _ she accused. “Maybe you  _ do  _ belong in the dungeon.”

Smiling against her skin, Loki deemed his work satisfactory, then began working his way up her other thigh. “As your prisoner, my lady?  _ Gladly.” _

Her grip on his hair tightened, and he allowed her to guide him, relishing how desperately she  _ needed _ him; she felt like fire, and her desire burned through their bond, threatening to consume him completely. 

There was a time, in the beginning, when his little queen had seemed absolutely  _ mortified _ any time that he wished to taste her. She had wriggled away and protested, and it had taken some very thorough persuasion on his part to convince her of the sincerity of his interest. How could she not understand that she was  _ perfect _ ? How could she not understand that he wanted to give her pleasure, to focus  _ entirely _ on her?

_ How times change,  _ he mused, his face buried between her thighs, her legs over his shoulders as she whimpered and moaned and  _ ordered _ him to bring her to climax. Loki adored it. He adored  _ her.  _

She trembled as she came down from her high, her hips rocking slightly as she chased the aftershocks.  _ “Bed,” _ she demanded breathlessly, and Loki was happy to oblige, scooping her up and hurrying them into their bedchamber, trying to avoid stumbling over anything as she wrapped her arms around his neck and soundly kissed him. 

By the time they reached the bed, she’d recovered enough to shove him onto his back, quickly turning her attention to freeing him from his trousers. She smacked her palm against his hip, impatient, and he lifted his hips enough for her to drag the offending clothing out of her way. Her touch, when she finally deigned to stroke him, was light and teasing. “You better not move,  _ Majesty.” _

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he gasped. “Darling,  _ please—” _

Her hand clamped down over his mouth. “You are so  _ impatient.” _ she informed him, a smile on her lips. “It just makes it more fun to make you wait, you know.”

Loki groaned.

“Blue,” she said, “and be  _ quick _ about it, peon.”

Flushing slightly, he complied, though he’d  _ never _ understand why she seemed to enjoy making love to him while he was in this form. It was  _ also _ a mystery as to how she’d managed to keep her crown on her head, but he certainly wasn’t complaining about that, either.

_ “Ooh.” _ Running her hands down his chest, she hummed appreciatively, digging her nails lightly into his skin. “I think I’m going to commission a sculpture of you to keep in the bathing chamber. A nude, of course.”

If she hadn’t begun to grind against him, he might’ve laughed. “Yes?”

“Mhmm. We can have it moved into the guest chambers next time the Asgardians visit.” He  _ did _ laugh, then, thoroughly enchanted by her devilish little smirk, but the laugh quickly turned into a hiss of pleasure as she sank down onto him, bracing her hands against his chest. “You’re going to make me come again,” she said, reaching up to attempt to straighten her crown, though it did little good. “Understand? And then _ maybe—” _

He grabbed her and dragged her down for a kiss - he’d never been one for  _ total _ obedience, after all, and his queen certainly didn’t seem to mind, melting against him and allowing him to set their rhythm.  _ Poor darling, _ he thought,  _ she will be terribly tired in the morning.  _ And it didn’t help that they had to welcome the emissaries from Alfheim before breakfast—

“Stop thinking.”

_ Right. _

Loki was very  _ proud _ of the fact that managed to outlast her second climax, though it was a very close thing, and they were soon resting tangled in the blankets covering their bed, spent and sweat-slicked. She nuzzled up against his chin, sighing in contentment, and he smiled. “You’ve lost your crown, sweetheart.”

“Hmm.” Yawning, she wrapped her leg around him, settling into one of her favorite sleeping-positions. “‘s’long as you remember who’s boss,” she mumbled.

“No need to worry, my queen,” Loki replied, petting her crown-free head as she slipped into slumber. “I do.”

 


End file.
